Gay Porn Builds Character
by The Happy Monkey of Doom
Summary: Nicky wants to see what Rod does on the internet.
1. Cute Gays and Neapolitan Icecream

**Title: **Gay Porn Builds Character  
**Pairing:** Rod/Nicky  
**Summary:** Nicky wants to see what Rod does on the internet.  
**Warnings:** Some content is a little sexually explicit, but the description is light, and I hope I don't offend anyone. (Although, I assume you've seen the musical, so you probably don't mind!)  
**Notes:** As far as I know, the sites I've mentioned here don't exist - but you can try them if you're game! ^^  
**Disclaimer:** I am not affiliated with Avenue Q or those who hold the copyright. The following work is the tribute of a fan, and I am not making any money out of it.

**Chapter 1: Cute Gays and Neapolitan Ice-Cream**

Nicky sat in the bedroom sighing after his latest fight with Rod. Nicky had left his shoes and socks in Rod's 'study', and following some heated arguing, Rod had stormed out of the room with a shriek of frustration. Nicky didn't get the big deal about Rod's study. It wasn't _even_ a study, it was just the part of the bedroom where he kept his precious desktop computer. But Rod insisted on having his own space for it, which was the reason that the two men's beds had to be pushed so close together. Nicky didn't mind _that,_ it was just the fact that Rod treated it like a separate room all to himself that bothered Nicky. It meant that Nicky had to keep all his stuff away from that corner of the room, even though way back when they'd discovered the leaky ceiling, the two had swapped beds and now Nicky slept in the dodgy spot nearest Rod's study.

Fiddling idly with the zipper of his hoodie, Nicky wiggled his toes and watched the funny movement with no real trace of interest. He was too distracted thinking of Rod and wondering whether he should try and make it up to him. After all, he had agreed way back when the two had first shared a dorm room, to always respect Rod's need for personal space and quiet time, and that agreement had been refreshed when they graduated college and started renting together. Every time Rod accused Nicky of breaking that trust, Nicky felt very uneasy. After all, Rod had kicked him out once before. Nicky hardly expected it to happen again, but then again, that first occurrence was the last thing he'd expected at the time . . .

Nicky let out his longest and loudest sigh yet, hoping that Rod would hear him from wherever else in the apartment he'd gone to. Clambering off the bed, Nicky collected his shoes from the different spots Rod had kicked them before. His left sock was still balled up inside his left shoe, but he had to do some searching before he finally discovered the right sock under the computer desk and realised it had barely moved.

With a little shake of his head, Nicky placed the offending shoes under his bed, and just to be extra-nice to Rod, threw his socks at the laundry hamper. He even made sure that they had landed in and not bounced off the side before he left the room to find his friend.

"Hey Rod? I'm sorry about before . . . I put my things away," he called, walking into the kitchen. Rod wasn't here. Bemused, Nicky grabbed a packaged tub of pudding from the fridge, pulled this morning's spoon from his hoodie pocket and started to eat the processed chocolate treat as he looked in the next room for Rod. He was nowhere to be seen, and didn't answer Nicky when he called out. So he'd gone outside. Nicky frowned at Rod's behaviour - there was no need for his friend to overreact over their little fight. (Then again, Rod had been a touch more tense ever since that bad break-up with Ricky a while back.)

All the same, Nicky didn't want to have to wonder where Rod was, so he walked out onto the doorstep perfectly barefoot. He checked the rooftop just in case, but couldn't see Rod. And after a few minutes of checking with the other residents of Avenue Q, Nicky still didn't know where his buddy had gone!

Back inside, Nicky began to feel worried. He hurried to the phone and checked the answering machine, just in case Rod had called within the few minutes that Nicky had been outside, but still Rod left him no signs. Nicky decided to call his cell phone. Nicky's own cell was rarely used save for playing Space Invaders - it wasn't often Nicky got to buy himself credit, so he was always using the home phone or borrowing Rod's. Today, of course, the former was his one option, so he picked up the receiver and dialled Rod's number. (Rod was not on their speed dial, since the two were always seen together unless Rod was at work.)

The phone rang endlessly and for a while Nicky thought Rod wasn't going to pick up. Maybe he'd left his phone on silent. Nicky contemplated hanging up, but only for a second - his concern for Rod far outweighed his lack of patience right now.

Finally the ringing stopped and Nicky heard Rod's voice. "Nicky? What do y--"

"_Rod!"_ Nicky gushed over the top of whatever Rod had been saying. "Rod, where are you?"

"I--" Rod hesitated, perhaps surprised by Nicky's sudden enthusiasm. "I went to get a coffee," he said shortly, evidently still a little huffy. "I'm at the park."

Rod's tone reminded Nicky what he was supposed to be saying. Quickly swallowing his mouthful of pudding, he said, "I'm sorry, Rod, I didn't mean to upset ya before." There was no reply for a moment, only a slight fluctuation in reception quality mingling with the park's background noise. So Nicky continued: "I put my shoes and socks away . . . Can you come back home? Please?" Again, there was a pause. Nicky waited for a moment, hearing only the rustle of Rod presumably shifting on his park bench. " . . . Rod?" Nicky tried tentatively.

"_Fine,"_ Rod said heavily, and Nicky breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Great!" Nicky said perkily. "Uh, Rod . . . "

"What, Nicky?"

"D'you forgive me?"

"Yes, I forgive you," Rod said exasperatedly. "See you at home, Nicky."

"Wait, Rod! Can I use your computer to check my e-mails?" Since Rod seemed to be in a good mood again now, Nicky thought it would be reasonable to ask such a request.

"Yes, fine, but don't open any e-mails if you don't know who they're from!" Rod said snappily, but Nicky just smiled as they said their goodbyes, because the fact that Rod had even let him use the computer said so much more to Nicky than Rod's indignant tone of voice.

In the bedroom, Nicky chucked his now-empty pudding container on the floor . . . then thought better of that and put it in the wastepaper basket instead. Smiling proudly at his own consideration and still sucking pointlessly on his spoon, Nicky sat down at the computer and opened Internet Explorer. He logged Rod out of hotmail and signed himself in.

There was one from Kate Monster, which made him smile - they'd been corresponding back and forth through e-mail, having random and disconnected conversations about nothing, for almost a year now. Nicky looked forward to getting her e-mails because they talked about things, both silly and serious, that they just never brought up to each other offline. He deleted his other e-mails, all spam and junk, and checked Kate's.

Amidst an assorted bunch of in-jokes, Kate mentioned Rod. She wanted to know how he was doing, since he seemed down. Apart from being a little wound-up, Rod hadn't 'seemed down' to Nicky, so Nicky wasn't sure what to say in response. He logged out for now, wanting to put more thought into a reply later on.

Out of boredom he clicked the cursor in the address bar at the top of the page, interested to see what sites Rod visited most. Most of the urls that came up were long strings of numbers and letters that Nicky didn't care to try and comprehend, but a few were made up of words, so Nicky clicked on one of those at random.

He realised a page too late he'd clicked on "GayGermanDominatriXXX dot com", and before he could think to stop the page from loading his eyes were bombarded with images of leather-clad, boot-wearing, military-style half naked men with huge erections, staring unabashedly at Nicky from inside the screen. For half a second Nicky panicked; the natural reaction to have, he thought, when you were surprised by unexpected hardcore porn. But he didn't close the window at once, oddly compelled by the overt nature of the pictures. It was still a shocking sight, though. Was this really the kind of thing Rod _looked_ at? The men in these photos carried whips and paddles, choking or gagging their tied up and helpless (yet still incredibly muscular and well-hung, he noticed) victims. Yeah, victims, that was what it looked like to Nicky! Shouldn't sex be about partnership, not control? Was this the kind of thing Rod had done with Ricky? . . . Perhaps a strange thing to think about, but Nicky really was curious. Gay sex was something he'd never really thought a lot about. He'd certainly never seen real images of the act.

Still feeling surprised at Rod's taste, Nicky clicked on Home and was taken back to Google. He drummed his fingers on the desk and wondered where the appeal was in sadomasochism. He'd known pain and sex went hand-in-hand for a lot of people, but never for him, and well, Rod? Rod was the kind of guy who'd have to blink back tears over a stubbed toe. Nicky had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that his friend of so many years was into bondage, either giving or receiving . . . And actually, Nicky wondered which. Would Rod have been the one with the power? Or would he have lain on his bed, those nights Nicky had slept on the couch, taking it from Ricky like a . . . like a . . .

Yeah, so that really wasn't something Nicky wanted to be thinking about. He wished he could attribute the tingling in his hands to shock, but now that that initial reaction had faded, all that was left was a burning curiosity to match his heated cheeks. (And Nicky had never been the blushing type - that was _Rod's_ field.)

It was that (almost morbid, he felt - and yet innocent, he reassured himself) curiosity that led Nicky to take another look at Rod's past visited urls. Nicky clicked on "CuteGays4U dot com" and watched the "Enter Site" banner appear.

"Rod, you should really delete your history once in a while," Nicky tutted as if Rod were right there. The thought made him whirl around in the chair, but Rod was nowhere to be seen. All the same, he'd probably be home soon. Nicky only had a moment.

He turned back to the screen. Slim, toned, attractive guys in their twenties and thirties decorated the site, kissing and groping and locking eyes. This was more like it. Nicky could definitely approve of Rod looking at stuff like this. The companionship and mutual attraction between the guys in the pictures was evident, while the sex was still hot enough to - wait, hot? Yeah . . . Nicky supposed he approved of this site more than he'd care to admit.

He jumped when he heard the door open. Quickly closing the browser, he hurried to the shower so that Rod wouldn't catch him flushed and aroused. He knew from experience that that was humiliating for both of them.

"Nicky?" Rod called out. Nicky heard the rustle of plastic bags placed on the counter; had Rod been shopping?

"I'm just getting in the shower," Nicky called back, and subsequently heard Rod's footsteps near the door. With his hoddie and shirt hanging around his neck, Nicky opened the door a crack to peek out and see Rod.

"Well, good, you need one," Rod said, trying not to sound huffy.

"Did you go shopping?" Nicky enthused.

"Yes . . ."

"Did you buy ice-cream?"

"No--"

"_Aww!"_

"Nicky, you didn't even finish the last tub--"

"There's only strawberry left! I hate strawberry ice-cream," Nicky reasoned.

"Then stop asking me to buy Neapolitan!" Rod countered.

"Well, I like chocolate, and you like vanilla, so . . . It's a compromise!" Nicky said brightly, trying not to let this turn into another fight.

Rod sighed heavily. "Then next time . . . _just tell me you want chocolate and vanilla!_" With that he turned on his heel and made to storm off, but something stopped him and he turned back to look at Nicky. "Hurry up in the shower. I don't want you to use all the hot water."

"You know me!" Nicky said.

"Yes, yes that's the problem," Rod said with another sigh, and walked into their bedroom. Nicky watched him go for a second, then closed the door and finished undressing.

Man. It sure was a good thing Rod didn't question why Nicky's cheeks were so flushed, or ask to come in the room. Nicky was still a little turned on, although having had such an inane and familiar conversation had helped take his mind of that website for a second and get him to calm down.

But now that he was alone again, standing under the hot water beating down on his skin, Nicky couldn't help but think about it. It was almost just the thought of something different, he supposed, that was turning him on so much. He'd never seen gay porn before, so of course he was curious.

That made him feel a little better, but then he looked down at his erection and came to the conclusion that hormones didn't get curious. They just got hot.

He felt guilty and ashamed as he grabbed hold of himself and started jacking off, but those feelings didn't make him any less aroused.

Rod knocked on the door halfway through, and Nicky shuddered in pleasure and guilt, biting back a little moan. "Nicky! Hurry up in there - you've been ten minutes already!"

"Okay!" Nicky called back awkwardly, not trusting himself with a longer sentence. He could hear Rod walking away, but suddenly he imagined what would have happened if Rod had just walked in on him, butt-naked and soaked with his hand wrapped around his dick. He thought of Rod's reaction - the squeaky gasp, the deep blush, the stammering, wide eyes fixed on Nicky's shame - and that image sent him over the edge. He fell to his knees, opening his mouth in a silent cry, as he came all over the tiled shower wall.

After recovering and cleaning up, Nicky came out into the kitchen fully dressed and drying off his hair. Rod was sitting at the table reading the financial section of the paper, as usual. Nicky couldn't bring himself to make eye contact, so he just went for another pudding - those things sure were addictive!

He sat at the table with it and tried to think of something to talk about that didn't involve the sentence "So, gay German bondage porn, eh?" But then Rod spoke, and he didn't have to think of anything.

Lowering the newspaper, he offered it to Nicky. "Want to read?"

"The financial news?" Nicky asked, somewhat aghast.

Rod rolled his eyes. "You don't want to read the comics?"

"Oh! Sure!" Nicky said brightly, picking up the paper to find that Rod had already turned to the right page for him, knowing that Nicky could never find his own way around a newspaper. Nicky's heart warmed at the tiny show of consideration. "Thanks, Rod," he said sincerely, feeling comfortable enough now to turn around in his seat and look his roommate in the eye.

"Well, that's okay, Nicky," Rod said, sounding a little flustered, and breaking free of Nicky's gaze rather quickly. Nicky shrugged it off and went back to his comics and his pudding.

A minute later Nicky came into the bedroom to find Rod on the computer, evidently working. Nicky saw this as a good opportunity to ask Rod if something was up. After all, Kate thought he'd seemed down, and although Nicky didn't really see that he had, Kate had always been the intuitive one.

"Hey Rod," Nicky began, sitting down on the side of his bed.

"What, Nicky? I am trying to work," Rod complained.

"Kate mentioned you in her email," Nicky said up-front, hoping to catch Rod's interest before the conversation got shot down. It worked, Rod turned in the chair with a "Hmmm?" to see what Nicky had to say.

"Yeah," Nicky continued thoughtfully, looking up at the ceiling as he drummed his palms on his knees, "she wanted to know how you were."

Rod sighed and turned back to the computer. "Busy!" he said, in a very final manner. Nicky raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, but really, Rod . . . Are you _okay_ lately?" He stared straight at Rod, who didn't look around, shoulders rigid. Boy, maybe he really was upset about something!

"Please, Nicky. I am _trying_ to _work_ - this is important!" Rod hissed out through gritted teeth.

"Okay, Rod," Nicky said, giving up and lying down on his bed. There was a short silence between them, marred only by the tap-tap-tap of Rod's fingers on the keyboard and the gentle robotic hum of the PC. Then a thought came to Nicky, and he couldn't help asking, "It's not Ricky, is it?" The sound of typing stopped; Rod's fingers froze above the keys. Nicky sat up, immediately curious at this reaction. "Why'd you guys break up, anyway?"

Rod turned around and gave him a look that withered him just a little. Had he gone too far?

"_Nicky . . ._" Rod began, warning signs flashing above his head. "I am _fine. Leave - me - alone!_"

Nicky got up to leave the room, hurt and defensive. "You don't sound fine," he muttered under his breath, slamming the door behind him to the sound of Rod's shrill cry of frustration.


	2. Familiar Underwear and Rate the Babe

**Title: **Gay Porn Builds Character**  
Pairing:** Rod/Nicky**  
Summary:** Nicky wants to see what Rod does on the internet.**  
Warnings:** Some brief sexual references.**  
Notes:** Please forgive me for the lack of Rod in this chapter! I hope that what there is makes up for it. OwO**  
Disclaimer:** I am not affiliated with Avenue Q or those who hold the copyright. The following work is the tribute of a fan, and I am not making any money out of it.

**Chapter 2: Familiar Underwear and Rate the Babe**

When Nicky woke up, halfway through the day, he found himself alone in the apartment. It was a quarter to one, which meant Rod had left for work almost eight hours ago. Nicky sure didn't envy him for having to get up so early.

After having breakfast and getting changed out of his pyjamas, Nicky thought it would be a good idea to reply to Kate's email. So, hoping Rod wouldn't mind, he logged in, deleted a couple of junk mails that had come in overnight, and opened up the message he wanted. He gave it one last once-over, and then started to type up a response.

When it came down to talking about Rod, Nicky was hesitant. He knew how Rod felt when Nicky talked about his personal life to other people - then again, how would Rod ever find out about one little email? In the end, Nicky decided it would be perfectly harmless to say: "I tried asking him last night but he got mad. If you ask me it's something to do with Ricky. But he doesn't want to talk about it. Other than that he's been okay."

Happy with that, Nicky signed off with his usual grinning emoticon and sent his email away before logging off and shutting down. He instantly thought of those websites he'd seen yesterday, and almost felt like turning the computer back on, but determinedly decided he wouldn't. Sure, he was really curious, but he already knew it wasn't such an innocent sorta curiosity. And he'd never been a porn-watching kinda guy. Sure, he'd fill time alone with dirty videos occasionally, when he was really bored, but most of the time his imagination suited him just fine. Hey . . . he'd always been imaginative.

He cursed that trait now as he sat on his bed and looked over at Rod's beside drawer, imagining what might be kept in there.

A minute later he was rifling through Rod's stuff, even as his heart pounded in his chest knowing that Rod would be able to tell; knowing that Nicky would never be able to sort things back into their immaculate placement. For the first time, he thought maybe it was a bit weird that every pair of underwear in this drawer was familiar to him. Under all Rod's now rumpled socks and underwear, Nicky found a diary. It was padlocked, but Nicky didn't want to look at it anyway. He knew he was being invasive already, but that'd just be a step too far.

He tried vainly to fold everything back into place, but gave up quickly. He'd never been good at folding, which didn't even seem possible. Was that even a _skill?_ . . . If it was, Rod must be really talented, because Nicky had never seen such a well-kept underwear drawer. (Well, it _had_ been well-kept until just now.)

He hesitated to open the drawer underneath, but, well, may as well get sprung over a burglary if you'd already broken and entered. Wait, that was a bad way to put it. Oh, this felt so dishonest. Still . . . he'd come this far. Nicky opened the drawer. At first glance, a photo album seemed to take up the entire surface area. But that was sitting suspiciously high up in the drawer. He lifted it from the corner and peeked underneath to see . . . a big rubber dildo.

"Oh, _Rod,_" Nicky said aloud in disgust, shutting the drawer quickly with his eyes screwed shut. He'd slammed it a little hard, though, and opened his eyes again just in time to see Rod's big, fancy bedside lamp crash to the ground. With a gasp of horror, Nicky hurried to pick it up and inspect the damage. He was relieved to see that the bulb was still intact, but the lampshade was now sitting askew and was slightly bent around the wider rim. He couldn't get it back to normal so he just put the lamp back where it had been, silently praying to God not to let his roommate slaughter him.

After all that, Nicky decided he needed to take a walk.

He had barely left the house when he saw Trekkie Monster walking by. Thinking it unusual to see Trekkie out of the house in the day of his own accord, Nicky jogged over to greet him, nearly tripping on untied shoelaces.

"Hiya Trekkie Monster," he said, habitually shoving one hand in his hoodie pocket as he fell into step beside his tall and furry friend.

Trekkie looked down at him in surprise. "Oh, hello Nicky," he uttered in the gruff, sing-song voice Nicky had come to find oddly endearing. "Where is Rod?"

"He's at work for the day," Nicky said with a smile.

"Oh, right," Trekkie said, drumming his fingers on his chin.

"So where are you going?"

"Um, nowhere, me just walking," Trekkie said distantly. Nicky saw him glance over his shoulder at the apartments on the Avenue as the passed the spot where Kate lived. (Above her, in Brian and Christmas Eve's old apartment, was now Kingston's residence. Kingston had been living there for a while now, but still didn't associate with any of the others much.)

Trekkie didn't offer up any more conversation, so Nicky just whistled for a moment, then said, "Hey, let's go to Tompkins Square Park, it's not far to walk and we--I could do with the exercise." He coughed to cover his mistake, not wanting to offend Trekkie. (When Trekkie got in a bad mood, it was like a hail of fury. Thankfully Nicky had never been in its path.)

But he saw the monster's eyes light up. Nicky knew he was thinking of all the bikini-clad girls who were bound be there sunbathing. "Mm, good idea!" Trekkie exclaimed, and Nicky beamed.

True to Nicky's words, it was not a long journey. They chatted mindlessly all the way to the top of the alphabet, and upon reaching Avenue A, Nicky was surprised to muse that Trekkie could hold up a pretty good conversation. Admittedly, he was constantly distracted by hot girls walking by, but Nicky didn't mind playing "Rate the Babe". It wasn't something he could exactly do with anyone else on Avenue Q, anyway.

In any case, by the time he and Trekkie stepped onto the grass to stand under the shady canopy of a big elm tree, Nicky was glad to have company to distract him from getting too tired out. He knew the exercise would start to have a positive effect on him pretty soon.

"Ohhhh," Trekkie said appreciatively, looking at a nearby blonde who was lying on her stomach reading a magazine and sucking on a lollipop. A black and pink bikini covered little of her bronze skin.

Nicky nodded and hummed. "Six," he said decisively.

"Eight and a half!" Trekkie argued, still staring at the girl in question.

"What about her?" Nicky asked, pointing to a taller girl with short, brown hair and a tight skirt, who was walking across the grass a little further away.

"Hmm, seven," Trekkie said thoughtfully, but as the girl turned her back to them with a little sway of her hip, he amended, "Eight! Eight!"

"How do you judge?" Nicky asked curiously.

"Three factors," Trekkie said, without missing a beat, and held up a hand to count on his fingers. "How she move, how nice her body, and how much clothes she have." There was a pause. "Oh, me mean how little! How _little_ clothes!" Nicky laughed with him. Trekkie might have a one-track mind, but he was pretty good-humoured about it, at least. "Why - _you_ judge different?"

"Well," Nicky said thoughtfully, "I dunno, I guess there's more to it for me."

"_More?_" Trekkie repeated, in disbelief so genuine Nicky had to grin. "_What_ more?"

"Well, all those things you said," Nicky said, "but also . . . I like girls who have short hair, or hair in pigtails. And I like it when they wear bright colours, and smile a lot." Trekkie was just staring at him, so he added, "And I like redheads."

Slowly, Trekkie shook his head. "Me not so fussy!"

Nicky smiled and scratched the back of his neck, shrugging. "I don't think of it as fussy . . . I just have a 'type', I guess, but I can appreciate other girls too!"

"Well, what you think of _her?_" Trekkie asked, pointing at a nearby girl so indiscreetly that Nicky had to slap his hand away and look up at the sky for a second so that they didn't look like total perverts. "Hmmm?" Trekkie said insistently, so Nicky had to look.

The girl had red hair in short pigtails, a tight, yellow midriff top and lots of bangles on her freckled arms. She was waving at someone across the park, with a few little jumps that made her chest bounce. She had a big, bright grin on her face. It was basically everything Nicky had said he liked.

"She's hot," he shrugged. "Seven and a half."

"_What?_ You insane?!" Trekkie said, twirling his fingers around his ears to illustrate. "She hottest girl here with that much clothes!" Nicky had to laugh again at that, but he had no answer. "At _least_ eight. And me expected nine from you!"

"There's . . . I dunno, something about her makes it a seven and a half," Nicky said, scuffing his shoe on the grass.

Trekkie shook his head with a noise of disapproval. "Are there _any_ girls here you give higher score?"

Nicky scanned the park until he picked out a sweet-looking brunette who was sitting with her boyfriend. She had a long, thick plait, denim short-shorts and big glasses. "Her, she's probably a nine."

"Ohhh, she have sexy legs," Trekkie conceded. "But big glasses and big jumper? She a seven."

"I think those things are cute," Nicky said, looking up at Trekkie. "I like it when girls have long sleeves that sorta go over their hands - and look, the glasses make her eyes look really big and blue."

Trekkie snorted. "You got too many factors!"

Minutes later, they were sitting lazily under a tree together, debating about which was better between Marvel and DC. Nicky liked Marvel because Spider-man and Wolverine were his all-time favourites, but Trekkie argued that DC had better villains and sexier heroines ("But Marvel has Black Cat and Scarlet Witch," Nicky pointed out, and Trekkie had to agree on _that_). Then Trekkie spotted an attractive monster girl who was looking over at them from her spot on a park bench. She quickly looked away, but Trekkie was hooked by her glance. She had big, purple eyes rimmed by dark patches of fur, like markings on a panda, and the rest of her was a creamy-white colour, but she had long, dark hair that fell in waves to her waist. He stared.

After a while, it came to Nicky's attention that Trekkie was no longer listening to him. "Trekkie? Hey, Trekkie, what do you think of Elektra?" he urged with a nudge.

"Hn, you shut up," Trekkie said undiplomatically, gesturing with a nod of his head towards the monster girl.

"Oooohhhh," Nicky chuckled. "Now she is at _least_ an eight."

"She a _ten,_" Trekkie told him.

"But she's not even dressed like a slut!" Nicky said in surprise, grinning. "Well, not _as_ much."

"She look at me," Trekkie said dreamily, and understanding crossed Nicky's features.

"Hey, why not go talk to her?" he suggested. "Maybe she likes you!" _That'd be a first,_ he thought, but kindly refrained from saying so.

"Huh, me not sure," Trekkie said, picking softly at the furs on his knee.

"Oh, go on," said Nicky.

"You be my wingman?" Trekkie asked, and Nicky instantly agreed. He had to admit that he'd really love to see Trekkie with a date, for once.

And so it was that they approached the bench, side-by-side. "Don't come on _too_ strong," Nicky reminded Trekkie, having seen some of the guy's previous misguided attempts at picking up.

"How strong too strong?" Trekkie said hopelessly, and Nicky asserted that perhaps _he_ should introduce them first.

They neared the bench, and the girl looked up curiously, giving a friendly smile and brushing her bangs out of her face. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm Nicky, and this is my friend Trekkie Monster," Nicky said with a wave.

The girl smiled more and raised her eyebrows. "I'm Annie Monster," she said, waving back.

"Well, do you mind at all if we sit here, Annie?" asked Nicky.

"No, that's okay," said Annie, moving over to make room. Trekkie sat down next to her, looking overeager but holding back, and Nicky sat on his other side.

"Hello Annie Monster," he said, wiping the sweat off his palms before reaching over to shake her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Trekkie - ow," she pulled her hand away. Trekkie looked sheepish, and she said, "Sorry, you have a tight grip . . ."

"Oh, me sorry!" Trekkie said, and Nicky rolled his eyes at the thought of where Annie's words must have taken Trekkie's mind just now.

"Hey, I feel like an ice-cream," Nicky piped up, spotting an ice-cream van parked just outside the park. "Do you guys want one?"

"Chocolate flake," Trekkie requested, and Nicky looked to Annie.

"Oh . . . I'll have the same," she said brightly. "Hang on." Nicky waited patiently, not about to object as Annie fished out a few dollars from her wallet. "Thank you," she and Nicky said at the same time, then Annie giggled.

"Okay, back in a second," Nicky said, then hurried off to buy the ice-creams.

When he came back, still cleaning the rainbow sprinkles off his chocolate treat and holding two identical vanilla cones in the other hand, Annie appeared to be talking Trekkie's head off. Trekkie was perspiring from trying to seem normal, not that it was easy to see the sheen of sweat under all that hair. Nicky handed them both their ice-creams and they sat again, Nicky keeping quiet as he let Annie keep talking. Lucky she wasn't the type to ask loads of questions; Trekkie's answers would undoubtedly scare her off.

As Annie finished her story, Nicky nudged Trekkie gently to spur him on.

"Uh, Annie Monster?" Trekkie blurted out, jolted into action.

"Yeah?" she looked up at him with those big, wide eyes of hers.

"Me want to ask you . . . um." Nicky nudged him again, trying to wordlessly remind him not to mention sex. "You want to . . . go on date with me?" Trekkie scratched his head. Nicky peeked out of the corner of his eye to get Annie's reaction.

Annie blinked and smiled a little, looking embarrassed. "Um . . . Well, that's very nice of you . . . But can I be honest?"

"No," said Trekkie.

"Oh, um, well, anyway, I'm actually more interested in a date with your friend," she said in a low voice. Trekkie's hand tipped. The ice-cream slipped from his cone onto Nicky's lap. Nicky leapt to his feet with a yell and shook it off, trying to wipe the wet patch away with his sleeve.

"Um . . ." Annie bit her lip. "Sorry," she said again. Trekkie was about to get to his feet, but Nicky turned around and stopped him.

"Wait, Annie, wait a second," Nicky said. "You don't wanna go out with _me._"

"Uh - why not?" she asked, rather meekly.

"Oh, he gay," Trekkie said instantly. Nicky stared at him for a long moment, then looked at Annie with a weak shrug and a nod. This had better be worth it.

"Oh, okay," said Annie, looking surprised, and more embarrassed than ever. Her ice-cream had started melting on her fingers. Trekkie just nodded rapidly.

"Yeah, and Trekkie here, you know, he's a great guy," said Nicky, patting Trekkie's shoulder, only for Trekkie to give him a weird look and shrug him off. "You should give him a chance. Just a date. He doesn't just ask out any girl he sees, y'know."

Annie thought for a moment, then smiled. "Okay, alright, I'll go on a date with you."

"You will?" Trekkie looked so excited Nicky thought his head might burst. Annie gave a bemused little lick of her ice-cream.

Nicky edged away into the shade of another big elm, leaving them to it. He'd just gotten Trekkie a _date!_ And like with an actual, live girl! If that wasn't an achievement, nothing was, and he couldn't wait to tell the others.

Not that said date was bound to go well. It would probably flop horribly. But all the same, Nicky's part was done, and he just felt _great_.

Well, except for the whole gay thing and the wet patch on his jeans. Those things kinda sucked. But Nicky supposed he had definitely seen worse times.

It wasn't until he and Trekkie were halfway home, and Trekkie mentioned Nicky's thing for redheads, that Nicky even remembered his predicament with Rod at all. Rod would be home soon, and Nicky would have to say something when he saw the state of his lampshade and the contents of his drawer.

Oh, yeah -- what was Nicky gonna do about _that?_


	3. Melting Moments & My Favourite Lampshade

**Title: **Gay Porn Builds Character**  
Pairing:** Rod/Nicky**  
Summary:** Nicky wants to see what Rod does on the internet.**  
Warnings:** References to investment banking made by an author who...doesn't know anything about investment banking. XD**  
Notes:** Apologies for the really long wait. Forgive me? Also, I want to thank you all for your lovely reviews! It really means a lot! (Except for you, Cameron. xD)  
**Disclaimer:** I am not affiliated with Avenue Q or those who hold the copyright. The following work is the tribute of a fan, and I am not making any money out of it.

**Chapter 3: Melting Moments and My Favourite Lampshade**

When Rod arrived home it was to the warm, buttery smell of something delicious baking. He stepped into the kitchen curiously to see Nicky wearing Rod's frilled apron, the one his mother had sewn for him, singing a quiet little ditty to himself as he busied about a messy counter top.

"Hi, Nicky," Rod said uncertainly, his eyebrows raised high.

Nicky gave a little start, but then brightened considerably at seeing Rod. "Oh, hey Rod, buddy! I didn't hear you come in," he said with an embarrassed little laugh.

"What are you making?" asked Rod, sniffing the air once more. He walked into the kitchen, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over one arm to adjust to the warmth of the room. "And . . . why?"

"I just thought I'd make some cookies for my _best_ friend in the _whole_ wide world," Nicky said sappily, a dopey, heartfelt smile spread across his face.

"That's very . . . sweet, Nicky," Rod began, still taken aback. Nicky paused, feeling apprehensive at Rod's tone. "But," Rod continued, "it is a _complete_ mess in here. How did you even _manage_ this?" He looked around. All the ingredients Nicky had used were still laid out on the little bench, cluttering the space and leaving practically no clear surface. Spilt flour, cornflour, sugar and butter littered the area, as well as covering Nicky himself, not to mention Rod's precious apron.

"I-it's not _that_ bad, is it?" said Nicky, looking downcast.

"Oh, Nicolas," Rod said, shaking his head. He couldn't be angry, not when Nicky had been so thoughtful (if somewhat naïve, as usual), so he settled for mildly ticked off.

"I was _gonna_ clean up," Nicky assured him.

"That's okay. I'll do it," Rod said, going to drape his jacket over the back of a chair at the dining table. Nicky watched him with a grateful little smile as Rod took off his tie, rolled up his sleeves and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Rod returned to the kitchen, saying, "You may know your way around a melting moments recipe, but the art of neat-and-tidy is _not_ your forte."

For about the next ten minutes, Rod cleaned up while Nicky kept a watchful eye on his cooking. Then, as Rod finished cleaning the now cleared bench top, Nicky was placing the melting moments on a cooling rack. Both men inhaled luxuriously, taking in the scent, before Nicky took off his oven mitts and apron and stood back to admire his work.

He was glad that Rod was in a good mood. Whether it had been the cookies that did the trick, or whether Rod had just had a nice day at work, Nicky didn't know. Whatever it was, it was certain to cushion the blow when Rod found out that Nicky had been messing with his stuff.

Rod took the apron off Nicky's hands and looked at it disappointedly. "I'd better start on this now," he mumbled to himself, then looked up at Nicky. "I wish you had just worn an old shirt or something instead of using _my mother's_ apron." Nicky shrugged hopelessly. Rod stalked off to rinse the garment, leaving Nicky hoping that this hadn't spoilt Rod's good mood.

Luckily though, when he came back into the room and they sat down to share a plate of deliciously warm melting moments, Rod seemed much happier.

"Oh! Rod! You'll never guess what I did at the park today!" Nicky exclaimed, spitting crumbs onto the table in his sudden excitement so that Rod gave him a shocked look and he had to sweep them away apologetically.

"What happened to you at the park today?" Rod sighed, holding his biscuit delicately in his hand and catching crumbs in the other.

"Me and Trekkie Monster met this _cute girl,_" Nicky said enthusiastically, not noticing when Rod visibly stiffened and stared down at his knees. "And Trekkie was really interested in her, and we all got ice-cream, and I was his wingman." Rod looked a little lost. "But it turned out, she was interested in _me!_" Nicky tapped his chest, as if it would otherwise have been unclear who he'd meant by 'me'. "But then I convinced her to go on a date with Trekkie anyway . . . Can you believe it? I got Trekkie Monster a date!"

"Wow," said Rod, surprised despite his disinterest in Trekkie Monster's personal affairs. "Well, I don't know how you did it. And then you come home and make me cookies?"

"I've had a successful day, Rod," Nicky said joyfully, leaning back in his chair and positively beaming. Rod couldn't help but smile back, though the expression faded with a sigh as he spoke his next words.

"Well, _I_ haven't."

"What's the matter?" asked Nicky, pulling his hand back away from the melting moment he'd been about to grab.

"Well, first, the coffee machine was out of coffee," Rod began. "Then one of my clients lost some money on some stock they'd been investing in."

"That's really boring, Rod," Nicky interrupted.

"The manager of the company didn't think it was boring!" Rod went on. "He was very angry. I reminded him, we'd been taking a risk on this, I'd shown him the other options, and it was his choice, but he wanted to blame me! He'll cool off. But it was very stressful. And on _top_ of that --"

"Yeah?" Nicky grabbed another biscuit, clearly not very interested.

"Well, do you remember Harold?"

"Harrolf fum cuwibb?"

"Swallow your food before you speak, Nicky! You're spitting crumbs everywhere! Yes, Harold from college. The law student."

Nicky licked the remainder of the crumbs from his lips. "Well, he was your best friend apart from me for a while, wasn't he?"

"Yes, and you remember we had a _very_ nasty falling-out because I was spending more time with you than him."

"Mhm. He hid your shoes so you had to go to all your classes barefoot," Nicky snickered.

"He was _very childish_," Rod commented, not amused in the least. "Anyway, it turns out he went on to become a lawyer. But he's just recently left his firm to get a job as an _investment banker._"

"Oh boy."

"'Oh boy' is right. I couldn't believe it when I saw him. I don't know if he already knew I worked there or what, but of course we spent every moment we had together bickering like old times. It was enough to make me wanna pull out my immaculately styled hair!"

"Rod, no!" said Nicky, aghast.

"Figure of speech, Nicky, you know I never would," Rod assured him. Then he sighed, "I just wish I wouldn't have to put up with having him around. It's lucky I don't have to see him that often." There was a pause, then he muttered, "Plus he's got this stupid thin facial hair now."

"I know," Nicky piped up brightly. "Why don't _you_ go and become a lawyer? Then you won't have to see his ugly face at all!"

"Because I don't _want_ to be a lawyer, Nicky, investment banking is what I love," Rod explained. "Besides, Harold's not ugly, he's . . . " There was a long silence; Rod stared at the floor as if he were far away from this time and place. Nicky looked at him questioningly.

"Well," said Rod, looking up after what seemed like the longest minute in history. "Do you want the last cookie, or shall I?"

"You can have it," said Nicky, scratching his head with a frown.

Rod pulled the plate towards him and ate the biscuit while Nicky watched. Was it just work that had been getting Rod down? And had Rod been about to say what Nicky thought he had? Now probably really wasn't the time to be asking, so Nicky kept his mouth shut. Instead he directed his attention to a picture that was framed up on the wall. It was of the two of them on their college campus, taken a week or two before graduation, if Nicky remembered rightly. His hair was long and shaggy, and Rod had these big, dorky glasses and a flannel shirt. They both looked so happy, both with an arm draped around each other's shoulders, Nicky's free arm outstretched to hold up the camera. Nicky wondered how things could have changed so much and yet in many ways remained the same. He stared right at the young Rod's bright, smiling face and thought about whether Rod had ever looked that happy in photos with Harold.

"I'm completely exhausted," Rod said through a yawn, interrupting Nicky's silent thoughts. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Mmm . . . It's really late," Nicky agreed, glancing outside at the shadows conglomerating on the street. "Why do you always have to be so late home?"

Rod stood up and walked around to the sink to rinse the plate. "It's just part of the job, Nicky. Why, do you miss me in the day?" He meant it sort of teasingly, but Nicky's answer was surprisingly earnest.

"Well, yeah, I do," he said, twisting around in his chair to face Rod, who had paused with the sink still running and was looking at Nicky with an unfathomable mixed expression. "I mean, you're my best friend, and I don't get to see you nearly enough. And when you are around, we spend so much time arguing I feel like I haven't really seen _you_ at all." Rod was blushing just slightly now, and Nicky's forehead was creased where his eyebrows were angled up over his wide brown eyes. "Do you remember the summer after high school?"

Rod became aware that the tap was still running. Distractedly, he stopped it, waiting for Nicky to go on.

"Remember we spent almost every day together?" Nicky was sitting backwards on the chair now, resting his arms across the back of it. "Nina had just broke up with you and Cheryl turned me down before school ended. And it was pretty much just us when Georgie or Harvey weren't around."

"_They_ were mostly _together,_" Rod said pointedly.

Nicky smiled. "Yeah, so it was mostly just the two of us. We hung out so much that summer 'cause we were so determined not to lose touch after high school… And we said, remember, we promised we'd be best friends no matter what, even if Harvey and Georgie ran away to get married and even if we went to different colleges, or anything, we'd stick together. Y'know? And then we found out we both got into the same college and we were so over the moon 'cause we knew we'd never have to break that promise."

Rod's eyes stung a little. He sniffed and tried to hide it. "Nicky, where are you going with this?"

"Well I just wanted to say, Rod, that was the best summer of my life." Nicky looked sheepish, unsure of how Rod was going to take the sudden display of affection.

A silence fell. Rod's eyes welled up and his lip wobbled; he turned away, overcome. To return home from a long and stressful day at work to find that Nicky had baked for him, and then to hear all this, was unexpected and wonderful. "Oh, Nicky," he whispered, for lack of anything else to say.

"Well, anyway," Nicky said, suddenly nonchalant, "I'm gonna head to bed!" And before Rod could say anything else, Nicky had left the room, pulling his jumper off as he went.

Rod turned back to the sink, whimpering slightly, but refusing to let himself cry.

---

While Rod finished washing up, Nicky lay in bed, staring at the dim silhouette of Rod's dented bedside lamp. He felt a little bad about bolting on Rod, but it looked like he'd been about to cry, and as much as Nicky loved his buddy, he hated being around when that happened. Besides, if he pretended to already be asleep when Rod came to bed, maybe he could escape the tantrum that Rod was sure to throw when he realised Nicky had messed up his stuff.

Nicky pulled the blanket up to his chin, squeezed his eyes shut, and hoped Rod wouldn't try to wake him up to yell at him.

---

"Nicky."

"Hmmmurfle? Nnnng…"

"Auuugh, _Nicky._"

Nicky sniffed loudly to the back of his throat and opened his eyes. "Hmm?" It was dark, and Rod's face was hovering over him, looming out of the shadows.

"Nicky…" His voice was low, or at least as about low as Rod's high-octave voice could go, and there was a disturbing edge to it. Nicky tried to collect his thoughts enough to figure out what could be wrong. "Nicky," Rod continued, "what did you do to _my favourite lampshade?_"

Nicky's face went as pale as a mint lolly. "Oh. That… I was gonna tell you about that…"

"THAT WAS MY FAVOURITE LAMPSHADE!" Rod shrieked, grabbing Nicky's shoulders and shaking him back and forth so that Nicky could swear he could feel his brain rattling around in his skull.

"I-I-I-I-I-I'm sorry, Rod!" Nicky wailed; Rod stopped shaking him but was still holding onto him, looking furiously into his eyes. Nicky started babbling. "I came in here while you were at the park and I was just walking around and then I - I - I tripped over my blankets 'cause they were on the floor and I knocked over your chest of drawers and _I'm so sorry_ but it's only a lampshade and you can buy another one, _I'll_ buy you another one, I'll find a job I'll work at Burger King I'll do anything _please don't be mad I'm your buddy and I didn't mean to!_" His breath came in gasps; he realised perhaps he had overreacted, but then so had Rod. He looked at his friend and saw the angered look in his eyes melt away, and now Rod was just holding Nicky, looking at him, and Nicky was looking back, and suddenly his nervousness wasn't about Rod yelling at him, but about something entirely different.

Nicky knew Rod was going to kiss him. But somehow it still caught him off guard when it happened. He lost his breath, staring ahead into blue, feeling Rod's lips against him with the surreal sensation that this wasn't really happening even though he knew that it was.

As a punishment for messing with Rod's stuff, Nicky wasn't even sure if he preferred this to the yelling.

Rod pulled away, blushing redder than his hair, and covered his mouth with his hand. Nicky sat there dumbly.

"S-sorry," said Rod quietly, and Nicky hated the sound of his apology, but all he could say in response was, "I was sort of half-lying about the lamp."

"I know," Rod said. Nicky could feel Rod looking at him but he kept his eyes on the shape of his knees under the sheets.

Rod turned away and left the room.

Minutes later, Nicky called out: "Rod? . . . Rod?" But nobody answered him.


End file.
